


Aloft on the Winged Star

by Flufflybunnypants



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, NaNoWriMo, Original Character(s), Original Universe, Science Fiction, Space Opera, Spaceships, scifi, spaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaace, space, there's really nothing explicit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-02
Updated: 2014-08-20
Packaged: 2018-01-03 07:06:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1067489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flufflybunnypants/pseuds/Flufflybunnypants
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Crown imprisons Demetrius Tannen, former captain of the Stella Alatum, and assigns a new captain to the crew. The only catch? The crew of the Stella Alatum hold to their service oaths and remain loyal to Demetrius. Mysteriously, every captain assigned by the Crown dies, apparently of suicide. </p><p>One die-hard, loyal crew. One interfering interstellar government. One supercilious captain. One priest with a hidden agenda. One manta ray shaped spaceship. In spaaaaaaaaaaaace. That's pretty much it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter one! Actually, this is more of a prologue. Later chapters are longer. I wrote this for English class, the prompt was scifi short story. I ran with it. Somehow, it ended up being a little over 11,000 words. And it may grow, yet. Huge creds to Firefly, for making me fall in love with loyal crews, and creds to T.K. Huynh for letting me explain that I had a very cute, very gay character sashaying around in my brain with a gun and he wouldn't shut up. She's the reason all my crazy is on paper.  
> As to trigger warning stuff...first chapter has zip. (unless someone wants me to tag something) Later chapters may have some minor stuff, but I'm not big on gore, so you're prob safe from that.

_January 13 2970_

_From the Daniae High Court records, the closing speeches_

Council Elder Mendax: This council finds Demetrius Tannen guilty of treason and harboring and consorting with a known anarchist. We absolve of all charges his co-defendants Aldris Entoch, Anne Farrow, Mei Li Shang and Xander Mast.  The vessel Stella Alatum will remain in the Crown’s fleet and the crew will continue to serve under a replacement captain. This council concludes by sentencing Demetrius Tannen to 640 years in the mines of Marren. 

 

Council Elder Mollis: The crew will serve in a reduced capacity, but they are nonetheless bound by their oath to the Crown. We shall assign a new captain to monitor and report on the activities of the Stella Alatum and her crew. Any unfortunate incidents will not be looked upon kindly. Consider yourselves lucky and commit yourselves to the service of the Crown.

 

Council Elder Mendax: The guards will take Demetrius Tannen to the trans-ports. Scribes, seal all records of this under level 7 security. This tribunal is concluded.

_May 35 2973_

From the private diary of Nathan Harris

            I am glad to be leaving Althus; it’s an awful, dusty planet, though well-suited to being a military outpost.  ‘Captain’ Andreas has been off at the firing range all day. Last time I went down there, he and his thuggish friends snickered, “Careful, boy. We don’t have a spare priest if you shoot yourself.”

Idiots, all of them. But everything relies on Andreas needing me. I’m just a mark of status for him. Maybe he thinks his new crew is full of superstitious fools who’ll fear a priest of Death. I know better than to underestimate them. It’s only been three years since the tribunal, though Andreas would have been in Flight School , so he probably only saw the flash that was posted on the nets, expurgated by reporters for the public. I, on the other hand, watched the tribunal in person, as was my prerogative as a priest. That crew is far from foolish.  Every man who captained that crew after Demetrius has died within 8 months. The Crown’s morgue is littered with uniformed corpses from the Stella Alatum. Yet, not a single death has been tied to the crew, even if everyone knows that no crew should lose 6 captains in three years. Most of the deaths appear to be suicides, so some people speculate that there’s an aura that’s causing the deaths. I’ll do my duty and make sure no souls are lingering, but I sincerely doubt it’s anything but the crew. If I am lucky, I can still get to him before they do. I deserve that, after all I have gone through, after all of my planning. I am the one who must say the rites over his glassy, dead eyes. Tomorrow, I am expected to walk on that damned vessel with ‘Captain’ Andreas. God protect me from being an unwitting victim. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we have Part Two! This one is longer, unlike the last one. Hope you guys enjoy!

_May 36 2973_

Xander Mast

It looks to be a nice day on Althus. Not too hot, but pleasantly warm, with enough grit in the wind to make goggles welcome. I can feel the sand speckle on my bare arms and crunch under my boots as I stand waiting for the newest captain. Rumour has it, he’s the star of both the Flight School and the Officer’s University. If the rumour is true, then he’ll be an interesting man indeed.

I see the dust trail rising in the distance from a military skimmer, and settle in parade rest. These military folk seem to think that if I look like a soldier, I’ll take orders like a good little soldier. Makes my job much easier. The skimmer stops a few yards away from me with a turn that sprays me with sand. It stings and burns like hell. I clench my fists in my fingerless gloves, wishing I’d heeded Mei’s advice to wear a shirt over my sleeveless top. If I have to stand here in this heat, and play the fool, I damn well  shouldn’t have to put up with idiotic military posturing. It’s not like I can pull rank on any of them.

A broad-shouldered man in regulation tan hops off the skimmer, his boots sending up puffs of dust as he strides towards me. Behind him, in hooded black robes, a smaller man gently slides off and follows the man who must be our new captain.

I nod to him and ask, “Captain Andreas Maldred?”

He stares back with unnervingly pale blue eyes and says sharply, “Yes. Now, show me my ship.”

I turn away to hide my disgust. _His ship?_ When he’s never stepped foot in her? Mei might skin him if she hears him say that. Aldris stands by the cargo bay doors and then comes down to meet our guests.

I turn back to the two men and smile pleasantly. “This is Aldris, our pilot.” Aldris smiles faintly, though he does not enjoy standing out in this heat. The smaller man nods beneath his hood, but the captain seems unimpressed. “He’ll grab your crates, while I show you around and introduce you.”

I walk up the ramp and lead them inside the cargo bay. As soon as we’re inside, I push my goggles up on my head and let them rest comfortably on my curly hair. The priest draws his hood back to reveal deep red, spiky hair and green eyes that painfully remind me of Demetrius’ hazel eyes. He’s got a face of angles, of clean and strong lines, unlike his companion, the captain, who’s all heavy, sluggish curves. In the artificial light of the hold, the captain looks older than his 40 years. The priest looks up and around; Andreas is irritably tapping his foot like some shrewish wife in a folk tale.

“Follow me. This is our cargo bay, where non-essentials and cargo are stored. Up here-” I lead them up the stairs to the main deck. “-we have a sitting area, and the kitchen is through there. Mostly we have protein and carbo bars, with a few packets of dehydrated tasters.”

Unfortunately Anne is in the kitchen, clutching a mug of herbal tea. She’s in neat black slacks and a blue blouse, but her lab coat must be in the med bay, so she lacks her usual image of authority. Andreas smirks a little and swaggers up to her. He stands deliberately over her, pressing forward until she’s backed against the counter and shrinking back. She’s tall for a woman, but Andreas is taller and more imposing. “So who are you, little mouse?”

“A-A-Anne. I’m the sh-sh-sh-ship d-doctor.”

He leans back, disenchanted, and sneers at her. “A female doctor? And you all quivery and feeble. God forbid I ever have to go under your knife.”

Her hands clench convulsively around her mug, and I step in smoothly to rest a firm hand on the captain’s shoulder. “If we may sir, there are more places I need to show you.” He shakes my hand off disgustedly, but allows me to shepherd him away from Anne. I glance back at her and she gives me a tiny nod to say she’s okay.

I turn back to the captain and the priest. “And just a little further, we have the pilot’s deck. I’m sure Aldris will give you a tour later, Captain. If you’ll follow me down the hatch—sorry priest—it’s a ladder, you’ll see the living quarters. Names are on the doors, don’t enter without knocking or you’re liable to get punched.”

The captain nods perfunctorily and goes to inspect his living quarters. I somehow have no doubt that he’ll be out within the hour to inform us of how drab or inferior his room is.

The priest looks at me and asks, “So who are you?”

I mumble, “Hmm,” as I’m still preoccupied with thoughts of the captain.

He looks up at me, as I have a few inches on him. He tilts his head and asks again, “Who are you? You introduced everyone else. So who are you?”

“Xander,” I respond and hold out my hand, palm up.

 He clasps my wrist firmly, but without turning it into a contest of strength, and introduces himself as, “Nathan Harris. So what’s your job on this pretty ship?”

 “I’m the weapons master and ambassador for the Stella Alatum. I deal in handshakes and bullets. I excel with both.”

He looks curious, and a smile plays at the corner of his mouth. “Actually, I take back my previous statement. I don’t think you introduced everyone. For one, this ship can’t run without an engineer and none of the other crew seem to have the qualifications. Two, I’d rather like to meet Anne without the captain and apologize and properly introduce myself.”

This priest is interesting, an unknown variable. It took me less than a minute to gauge what kind of man Andreas Maldred is, so he’s a disappointment. Nathan, on the other hand, doesn’t fit with the profile I was expecting when we got word that we’d have a priest of Death. I nod at him and drop my insincere tour guide face. “You’ll be bunking next door to the captain, in the guest cabin. If you follow me out—”

“Hang on,” he interrupts. “Give me a moment, please.” He goes into his cabin and comes out in just a green t-shirt and dark jeans. “If I try that ladder one more time in my robes, I’ll break something. Those rungs are slippery.”

“They are indeed,” I say as we climb back up. “But don’t you need the robes? As some symbol of your office?”

He shrugs easily, and follows me toward the engine room. “Not unless I’m on duty. Unless you or someone on this ship intends to die right now, I’m okay. Unlike the monks at the abbey, I don’t need to be in vestments all the time. My god is with me whether I’m in jeans or my robes.”

Somehow, out of the robes, he looks stronger, more confident. Though, I’m certain that being away from the unpleasant presence of our new captain helps. We clatter down the stairs, back into the cargo bay, where Aldris is securing the last of the crates.

“Hey, wings up in two,” he calls across the bay. I give him a thumbs up and continue towards the engine room.

“Uh, do we need to be strapped down?” Nathan suddenly looks a bit green. “Last ship I was on they strapped us in. The ship before that…well I now know why gravity is so wonderful.”

“No,” I reply perplexedly and stop walking to _really_ look at him. “We have a gravsim in place.” What space ship doesn’t? It’s like having a biosphere thermal regulator. The last ship he was on would have been military issue and they always triple secure everything, but what ship would let people risk grav-sickness on interplanetary travel?

“Oh, okay. So, where are we headed?”

“Right in here,” I tug open the door and walk in, ducking down. I’m a mite tall for the space, and I imagine Nathan has a similar problem. It suits Mei just fine. She’s under the engine, up to her elbows in wires. She slides out and stands up, black hair firmly pinned back, olive green coverall perpetually marked with grease. She barely comes up to my shoulder, but her stare makes me remember my manners. “Nathan, this is Mei Li Shang, our engineer, married to Aldris. Though, to be honest, we’re not sure if they married each other or the ship. Mei, this is Nathan-”

“Nathan Harris. Ma’am, it’s a pleasure to meet the legendary Metal Magicienne,” he says seriously, and gives a little half-bow.

 _Metal Magicienne?_ I mouth behind his back, but Mei pays me no mind. As usual.

“It’s been a very long time since anyone last called me that.”

“Nonetheless, there’s still plenty of flash from your university days floating around. Compiled all together, it makes an impressive résumé.”

She smiles slightly and says, with a grin that’s just a few too many sharp edges to be kind, “I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage. All I know is that you’re the Black God’s priest and you’re in the employ of a man who made Anne cry.”

Nathan looks genuinely distressed. “I am sorry. I signed on with him to get off-planet, not because I was enamored of his attitude. I will apologize to the doctor.”

Mei’s smile softens. “Good. Though, I’d warn you against talking treason on your first day aboard. Whether you enjoy his company or not, he is still the captain of this vessel.”

“My apologies. My mother always said my mouth ran free.”

“Don’t apologize. I intend to stay in here so as to avoid him.” With a nod, she dismisses us both.

“Okay, med bay is the top level of the ship. I hope you’re used to climbing stairs, or the first few weeks may be a bit rough.”

“The monastery was on a mountain. I think I’ll manage with a few stairs. When do we take off?”

I snicker. “We’re already in the air. By the time we reach the observatory, we’ll be out of atmo.”

“Really? Let’s go!”

“Eager aren’t you?” In my periphery, I can see him jogging up the stairs behind me. He’s actually able to keep pace with me. Even Aldris doesn’t bother with that.

“I wouldn’t be on a spaceship if I wanted to spend my life staring at engraved obsidian walls.”

“Fair enough,” I concede as we step out into the observatory. The top deck is divided between the observatory and the med bay.

Nathan sighs out the words, “God’s breath,” as he takes in the view.

“Come on, you can ogle the stars later. Med bay is this way,” I say, sliding the doors open. Anne’s in the corner, fiddling with some gadget. Without looking up, she throws a scalpel a foot to the right of my head.

“Not in the mood, Xan.”

“It’s okay, princess. I’m not here for a heart-to-heart. But the good priest wanted to have a word.” Nathan is standing behind me, cautiously eyeing the scalpel embedded in the block of wood I installed there for Anne’s preferred method of temper tantrums.

“Hi. I wanted to apologize for the captain’s behavior earlier, and introduce myself.”

“Xander,” Anne growls, hair whipping as she twists to glare at me.

I backpedal and hurriedly say, “Just not the spyders again. Please. Have a nice chat!”

I shove Nathan into the room and slide the doors shut neatly. I can hear Anne shout, “Coward!” Anne will probably get her revenge on me later, but if the priest plays it right, she won’t be too brutal.


	3. Chapter 3

Anne Farrow

            The priest looks like he wants to melt back through the doors, but he still stands up straight to face me.

            I feel brittle, like a broken glass bottle, all ready to slice someone to ribbons. My tone dripping with bitterness, I ask, “Got anything to say, crow?”

            His mouth doesn’t even twist at the derogatory term for Death’s priests. “I really am sorry. You don’t deserve his idiotic words.”

            I snap, “I don’t need to be coddled. I’m not some fragile butterfly who’ll fall apart.” I turn my back on him and flick my hand viciously to pull up his med file on the screen. It’s not like I don’t know that I look like a fool when I’m not in the med bay. I just don’t usually feel assaulted by my own captain.

            “If your test scores are anything to go by, you certainly don’t need to be coddled. And if you were the one who stitched up Xander’s neck, then I sincerely doubt you’ll fall apart.”

            I turn back to him. “I would very much like to know how you know so much about us when you’ve been on this ship less than half a day.”

            “There’s a faint, pale line, half on skin and half in his hair, on the back of his neck, near the vertebrae. It’s consistent with a nasty serrated blade wound. I noticed it when I was walking behind him. As for you, you passed with top marks in your class, then decided to take to the air, instead of staying in a fancy sterilized hospital. That’s a unique decision.” His tone is soft and gentle, and I find myself relaxing a little.

            I have to ask. “Where have you seen injuries like that?”

            Like flipping a switch, the tables are turned. He shuts down, warm green eyes looking dead. “That’s not something I want to talk about, if you don’t mind.”

            I drop it. There’s a haunted look in his eyes, warning me away from whatever grief he carries.

            “Alright, have a seat.” I gesture at the examination table. He goes and sits gingerly on the edge, still tense.

            “Uh, why?”

            “I need to do a run-through of your medical file. The military took care of the captain, but I don’t think monasteries have a strict policy of regular physicals.”

“So what do I need?”

I feel the urge to tease him, just to get him away from the memories still in the room with us. “Well, how do you feel about cybernetic implants in your legs?” I don’t look at him, hiding my smile as I look at his specifics.

He just stares at me as I look at him with my best I-am-a-serious-scientist face. I let my smile peek through, and the corner of his mouth quirks up. “Well, I am awfully fond of my legs. They’re originals, you know.”

            “Then you’ll be pleased to know that you only need a few inoculations before I send you on your way. Just a precaution since we’re an interplanetary op.”

            He smiles, and rolls up his sleeve. A few quick jabs and we’re done.

            “There. You are no longer at risk for festering pustules.”

            “What a relief,” he says and rolls down his sleeve as he stands. He’s tall and well-built, though he’s no Xander, whose muscles have muscles.

            I put away my basic med kit. “If you see Xander on your way down, let him know I said no spyders if he makes chapchae tonight, while we still have some fresh supplies from the military.”

            “Someday, one of you has to tell me what happened with the spyders.”

            “If Xander doesn’t follow through, you might get to see it in person.”

            I doubt sincerely Xander will even risk that. Nathan nods and goes out to do whatever it is priests do. I know he’ll pass on my message to Xander. Any other crew member wouldn’t, just because Mei’s spyders were perfect. Of course, I’ve been pranking Xander since we were little. He’s never held it against me, and he’s never retaliated. Just the fact that we grew up together prevented me from throwing another scalpel at him today. I probably should have reined in my temper in front of our newest guest. I just hope he decides to come over to our side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I'm about as miserable as can be. One week of finals may do me in. My eyes are burning and I can't find my glasses and my back keeps seizing up. Pretty pretty please comment on this, even if it's to tell me about a horrifically embarrassing spelling mistake. <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, a whole new chapter!

_June 3 2973_

Mei Li Shang

Althus is about a week’s distance from Mareswood, which allowed our new crew to settle in. The captain is an ass, the priest, an enigma. The captain swaggers around, trying to prove that he’s in charge. He’s convinced himself, but I don’t think anyone is buying it. Fortunately, he finds it annoying to come into the engine room, so I’m spared his sexist, racist, and generally supercilious comments. Poor Aldris comes to bed every night having spent nearly the whole day with him. I feel bad for him, but it’s starting to depress me to share a bed with a great, big, hulking man who mopes half the time. As for Anne and me, we only go to the kitchen if we’re together, and we do not linger there or have meals with the others.

That pact was made after an incident on the 2nd night. When Captain Maldred told Aldris, “It’s good you’ve managed to remind your woman of her place,” I thought Al might actually throttle him. The captain has an overinflated sense of his worth.

I shift where I’m sitting in the air ducts. They’re a great way to get around, but not really ideal to sit in for a long time.

Pleasantly, the priest has been a good addition to the crew. He takes his turns with the basic chores, and tries to help anyone he can. He’s taken to walking about without his robes, simply for practical reasons. For all of his good humour, he’s a private man. I’ve caught him talking with Anne, after his morning meditation in the observatory, and he works out with Xander, there’s still a sense, all said and done, that he is shut off. On the other hand, he’s been with us for a week, so I don’t expect full disclosure.

Interrupting my thoughts, I hear the slight creak of the door opening. I slide down into the room, before Nathan actually steps in, and am working at the console innocuously as he shifts uneasily by the door.

“Hi, is it a bad time?”

“No, sit down,” I say, gesturing to a small stool near the door.

“I just had some questions.”

“And I’m the best person to ask?”

“You know…well, you seem to know pretty much everything that goes on. I’m kinda flying blind.”

I snort at that. “What did you need, priest?”

“What are we doing on Mareswood?”

“Does that matter?”

“Well, it depends. Am I likely to be shot at, engaged in immoral activities, or accidentally left behind?”

“If you’re afraid of getting shot at, you’re on the wrong ship, boy. And I suppose it all depends on how you classify immoral activities. We don’t leave _anyone_ behind,” I respond, keeping my tone as level as I can, shoving down Dem’s voice and the memories of his loyalty to us. “If you’re unhappy with any of it, you can stay in your bunk from the time we hit atmo to the time we leave. You won’t know the difference.”

“I’m not afraid of being shot at. I just prefer to have a gun in my hand, so I can do a little shooting back.”

“Your book doesn’t have something to say about the natural order, not killing and all?”

“Oh, it’s got lots to say on that. It also advocates free will, and I reckon any man who takes a shot at me knows what he’s getting into. ‘Sides, if you’re a good enough shot, they don’t end up dead.”

He looks like he knows what he’s saying, like he’s been there. “Well then, I’m glad we don’t have to protect your lazy ass.” I flip a coin at him, which he catches with one hand. “Now shoo. I’m gonna make sure Baby’s ready for landing. Don’t sweat it too much. We all know what we’re doing. It should be simple.”

He gives me a small smile and walks out without checking the coin. I marked it with Death’s X, a soldier’s tribute to a priest, just in case I don’t make it home. It’s clear he knows what it is.

He walks back in, flipping the coin idly. His eyes are serious, none of the usual casualness. “When I say immoral, I mean no harm to children, no aiding slavers on the side for jingle in your pocket. That sort of thing. I need to know you guys are clean.”

I look him dead in the eyes. “We’re clean. Occasionally, we get to take down some slavers for good fun.”

“Okay.” He nods, and goes again.

It’s more than curiosity, but since I feel the same way about slavers, and people who hurt the helpless, I won’t press him. I certainly am interested though. I want to know why he chose the priesthood. I want to know why he talks of his childhood and of the monastery, but nothing of the time in between. He has more secrets than Anne.

In my ear, the com hisses to life. “Hey, blossom of love, all set for touch-down?”

“Yep, Baby’s in good shape.”

“You keep her beautiful. Love you.”

My job in here is done, and Al will get us down. I wonder what Captain Maldred thought of Al’s use of pet names. It’s a funny habit that started early in our courtship. I think ‘blossom of love’ is his favorite, but I’ve always thought ‘pearl of my heart’ was just as poetic. I laugh at myself, an old married woman, fondly dreaming of my husband. I never thought I’d have this, but then again, I never thought I’d get to live in space.

            Over the com, I hear, “Okay, doors open in two.”

            I grab my second favorite guandao and head into the cargo bay. Xander’s already there, standing by the doors, handing Anne her gun. Nathan comes down the stairs with a dark wooden staff that’s almost as tall as he is.

            “Okay, if you’re all quite ready,” Captain Maldred bellows. “This should be simple. In and out, no interference, no problems. A simple, diplomatic interaction. Mr. Mast and I will be handling this one.”

            “Anne’s coming too, Cap,” Xander says calmly.

            “And WHAT, precisely, is that sniveling child going to do?”

            “Sympathy, sir. Plus, the women on Mareswood prefer to talk to a woman. Unless you’ve got some equipment I don’t know about, she’s a necessary asset.”

I lean back, admiring his smooth explanation. ‘Course, I know just as well as Xander does, that the women on Mareswood are tough as nails, and wild to boot. They aren’t concubines on Danmoaen, these women work along with their men, raising cattle and children in nearly equal numbers.

Wherever Xander goes, Anne goes too. It’s dangerous as hell to have the doc and the man with all the guns off the ship at the same time, but from the way they tell it, they haven’t been separated since they were littles; they aren’t about to make a habit of it now.

Our little brave triad heads off into the nearest town. Nathan, Al, and I stay here with Baby. Al will probably try to get some sleep. He’s been wound so tight with the Captain constantly harping on him.

Nathan’s question breaks my train of thought. “Any reason Anne’s on the boarding party?”

“She and Xander are inseparable. And she’s talented. Any reason you’re carrying around a tree branch?”

“As the Abbot was wont to say, ‘If you can’t at least protect yourself, you’re useless to everyone else.’ I happen to be useful with this tree branch,” he says, then twists the handgrip in the middle of the polished wood. Two short, serrated, gently curved blades appear at the ends of the staff. He flicks his wrist again, and they vanish.

“Very nice. Your design?”

“No, not at all. One of the monks devised it after fasting for 3 days. Claims it came to him in a vision. It helps the peasants in the area surrounding the monastery. Many of them can hide it or disguise it, since they aren’t explicitly given permission to have non-farm implements. Many of us practiced with it first, then taught them how to use it for self-defense. It may lead to a revolution, but I won’t be there to see that.”

Incredulously, I ask, “Do you priests encourage death? I thought you were supposed to make sure no one dies before their time.”

“We ease the death of the ailing. We help families grieve. We do not encourage death, but we support free will. Death is a freedom for some. No matter how they pass, we show their souls the door to the other side.” He was right. He doesn’t need his robes. There’s an unearthly peace in his eyes, and he stands comfortably, leaning on the hold door.

“And what’s on the other side?”

“Well, that would be telling wouldn’t it?” He grins properly, his green eyes sparking.

“I suppose so. Do you mind letting me take a look at your staff?”

“Not at all, though fair’s fair. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

He’s a silly one, and I tell him so, but he just shrugs, playing the country idiot perfectly, and says, “I’ve always been a fool. My ma claimed she dropped me a few times, cracked my fool skull.”

I just shake my head and hand over my guandao and he passes me his staff. I nearly drop it, exclaiming, “What the hell?” because it weighs about as much as I can lift and that makes no sense. He’s not built like an ox, and this isn’t a damn broadsword. I don’t know of any woods that would have this weight, not for the size of it.

 “Oh, sorry, I should have warned you. I added lead plugs for a bit more heft. It’s not standard issue, but it gets people’s attention a bit faster.”

“Imagine it does that.” It’s neat piece, and the lead plugs are all but invisible, though with careful examination, it’s not impossible to spot the circles of wood that cover the lead.

“If you want, I’ve got a spare. We can spar a bit, sometime.”

“That’d be interesting,” I say as I hand his staff back to him.

We stand there in companionable silence for a while, looking out at the pretty greenery of Mareswood. It’s the sort of planet I wish I’d grown up on. My childhood never had this easy quiet. We’ve docked on this side of Mareswood before, and I remember all the children bathing down at the creek. They work hard, but at the end of the day, they all get tucked in and the villages all go dark. Lóngténg Dēng was a city that never slept, all the sparkle and illusion draped over grime and poverty.

Nathan, who has been sitting on some miscellaneous crate for the past 15 minutes, watches me. As I’m about to snap under his unwavering gaze, he asks, “Did Anne paint the blue snowflakes in the kitchen?”

“Yeah, said they remind her of home.”

“They’re pretty.”

“I’ve never seen snow. Been all over this ‘verse. Never had it do more than hail. Mind you, hail hurts.”

“Every planet I’ve been on has been crushingly humid. Even in a stone monastery, the heat creeps in. Wearing robes, you feel a bit like a hot air balloon.

“You don’t wear your robes much anymore,” I comment, enjoying this languid conversation.

“You ever tried to climb down a ladder in a priest’s robes? I’m not known for my impeccable balance.” He huffs laughingly.

“I do believe I’d go mad in those flowing things. I like my hydrophobic coveralls just fine.”

“That’s the other thing. They’re real cloth. It’s heavy. You gotta wash it real regularly and stitch it when it wears through. It’ll last a long time, but you have to take care of it. Though, if you’re teaching peasants to wield a blade, you get a few more rips than you ought to.”

“Sounds dangerous actually. Any of them ever really hit you hard?”

“Is that your way of asking if I’m a cracknob because I hit my head one too many times?” I shake my head at his joking question and he continues, “Nah, they never did. I practiced long and hard to get good at dodging their mistakes.”

We both fall into comfortable silence. He seems at ease, talking about the monastery.

Right on time, one hour from their departure, Xander, Anne and Captain Maldred are back. The captain looks supremely pleased with himself. Xander’s as loose and comfortable as always. Anne, who has never mastered Xander’s dissembling, looks like she’s liable to shoot the captain where he stands.

“Well, I think I handled that well,” the captain says jocularly.

“Yes, sir,” Xander affirms, disarming Anne before anything untoward happens.

She stalks up the stairs, and Nathan hesitates just a little before he follows her. It’s nice to know someone else will check on her, but I’ll still be dropping in later.

I take the opportunity to perform my own disappearing act, and duck into the engine room. I hang up my guandao and grab a fuser so I can repair a part that’s been driving me crazy with its rattling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please talk to me, anonymous readers who may or may not like my story. Is it good? Is it terrible? I may never know the truth.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I've been bad about updating. Sorry about that. Hopefully with the new semester I can keep posting these chapters. Four to go! (plus I've been planning a sequel)

_June 4 2973_

Aldris Entoch

            It’s the dead shift, and Maldred is in his bunk. The priest is down there, sleeping too. Anne’s up here in the cockpit with me, waiting for Mei and Xander. Anne is twitching slightly, shifting around and half-opening her mouth before snapping it shut again.

I decide to just give her an opening. “Did you want to talk about him?”

“No! Who? How did you know?”

I almost laugh at her vehemence, but I keep my implacable gaze on the controls and the stars ahead. “Mei caught you two sucking face yesterday.”

“She told YOU?”

“We’re married. Also, she wanted to know if I’d ‘comfort’ her like that.”

She winces a bit, and asks in a voice that is equal parts hope and terror, “Did you tell Xander?”

“No, sweets. Did you want us to? We figured it would be better to hear it from you.”

“He’ll kill me. Or Xander. And then he’ll revive me to give me a lecture on consorting with the enemy and duty to the crew and how I’m betraying,” she gulps, voice quavering as she works herself up, “how I am betraying Dem. Xander will never forgive this.”

I set up autopilot with a few quick taps and go over to where she’s shaking in the co-pilots chair. “Easy, easy.” I rub slow circles between her shoulder blades. “Xander’s not the type to throw you out on your ass for getting cozy. Mei and I will support you unless Nathan’s presence or behavior endangers our life on Stella. You remember Dem’s rules?”

She sniffs and nods. “One, this crew is your family, treat them better than you’d treat your family.”

I join in “Two, betray the crew or threaten this ship, you get jettisoned from the airlock. Three, leave no one behind.”

I can see in her face that she’s hearing Dem’s voice echo too, remembering him standing next to the Stella Alatum all puffed up and proud because he finally had his ship.

“See, it’s okay. Dem’ll have a right laugh about this when we get him back. Remember, he took out the rule about relationships on the ship, because he wanted Xander so bad. Though, the rule about no hanky-panky in the engine room still stands.”

“Of course. I remember,” she gives a watery chuckle, “we were days away from locking them in a bunk so they could sort their crap out.”

“That’s right. It’s all going to work out. We have the best crew to ever sail this ‘verse. You can tell Xander when you need to. Though, I suggest you find a more subtle place to rendezvous.”

Xander slides the hatch open and walks in, boots ringing solid on the metal floors.

As usual, Anne doesn’t resist the jibe. “Are you capable of walking less like an elephant?”

“Sorry princess, not all of us are so refined.” He slides the hatch shut behind him and looks closer at her. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she lies, “just messing with some chemicals in med bay. Fumes made my eyes water a bit, that’s all.”

“Alright.”

            I ask, “Mei?”

            “Couldn’t find her. Your woman has too many hidey-holes on this ship. You can get her up to speed later. We have to get moving. The way he acted on Mareswood? He’s going to get us all killed, real fast.”

            “Okay,” I say, settling back into my chair. “What’s the plan then?”

            “Can we Maryanne Dyer him? Because that plan was fun,” Anne says, hands clenched on the arms of the co-pilot’s chair.

            “I think that’d be too suspicious,” Xander says with a rueful shake of his head. Maryanne Dyer sold us out, to a bunch of scum scrappers. We jettisoned her from the airlock. “I say we stick with the regular layout. The ocular implants are still functioning and you can set them up really easily.”

            He’s right, unfortunately. Mysterious disappearances don’t go down well with the Crown and Maldred hasn’t actually broken Dem’s rules. Yet.  So as fun as it would be, “I agree. Business as usual.”

            There’s a sharp yelp behind the door. Xander springs to open the door, and Anne and I rise to our feet. Mei stands there, staring down Nathan as he backs away towards the hatch door.

            Xander is the first to regain speech. “What the hell is going on here?”

            Nathan whirls around and blanches when he sees Xander looming over him. “I just came into the kitchen, to grab a snack.” He holds up a carbo bar as evidence.

            Xander growls, “And?”

            “And I heard you guys talking, because the door was open a bit. I want in,” he defiantly blurts out.

             I ask, cutting off Xander’s next rant, “Do you know what you’re agreeing to?”

            “High Treason at the very least. I know the risks. But you guys are damn good at this and you haven’t been caught yet. I know you guys are doing something to the captains. It’s not a ghost or a hex or anything. I did my checks and this ship is clean of all of that. I know. And I want in.”

            Anne steps in next, incredulous. “You checked for ghosts? How do you check for ghosts?”

            “I am a priest. I am trained to find lost souls and guide them. It’s sorta in the job description.” His tone with her was more level, less angry.

            “Okay, enough,” Xander snaps. He physically shoves Nathan out, making the smaller man stumble, and gestures at Anne to join Mei and Nathan in the kitchen area.

            He slides the door shut, and I see his knuckles whiten as he stops himself from slamming it. Fortunately, he remembers to let the sleeping Maldred rest uninterrupted.

            “He’s a liability,” Xander states plainly, arms crossed.

            “You know as well as I do that this plan won’t even get off the ground if he doesn’t play along. He’s a risk either way. If he’s at least pretending to be on our side, you can keep an eye on him.”

            “What do we do if he rats? Where will we be then?”

            “Together.”

            Xander fixes me with a cold, desperate glare. “We are **not** together. Not until he’s home.” There is so much pain and rage twisted through his words, lacing them with acid.

            I hold firm, though my heart breaks for him. “We can’t get him home if we’re held on another government leash. You led us all down this path. You knew the stakes and we’re all playing this game now. This isn’t even a choice, so quit stalling. What’s your real problem with him?”

            “He’s insinuated himself into this crew. He is everything a government spy could dream to be. I love Anne, but she is the weakest link and he’s cozied up to her properly.”

            “You better damn well not be questioning that girl’s loyalty. It’s your call, Xander. You realize, you either make him part of the plan, or you shoot him where he stands and lie through your teeth to the Inquisitor.”

            “Fucking hell.” Xander throws his hands in the air exasperatedly. “Fine. He’s in. I don’t trust an inch of that crow, but he’s in.”

            “Okay. Anne’ll get him set up. You want us to start Operation Phoenix today or tomorrow?”

            “Give the priest a day to get used to the chip. Then we're active.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, comment, give me feedback, it would really help! :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a brief mention of rape and killing here, so if that triggers you, skip Nathan's flashback!

Nathan Harris

            As soon as Xander sneers and grudgingly adds me to the team, Anne drags me upstairs.

            “I’ll set you up. It shouldn’t take too long. Have you had ocular implants before?”

            “No. Never really been a position to seek them out.”

            “Actually, that’s better. Means I don’t have to work around scar tissue.”

            In the med bay, she has me lie down on the operating table. She prepares two syringes and puts them on a tray with some circuitry and forceps.

            “So this first injection…well, I think it’d be best if you closed your eyes. Just breathe for me, it won’t hurt. Much.”

            I feel the cool swab on my arm, then the weird push of an injection. Then the prickles sweep across my skin. My eyes fly open to see a spreading glow from my arm. The initial injection spot is already fading. I sit up, ramrod straight.

            “What-” I can’t even express a thought.

            “Don’t worry, it’ll only take a minute. I told you to keep your eyes shut.”

            “What? What is it doing?!”

            “It’s systematically disabling the nanites in your bloodstream.”

            “Nanites in my system?”

            “Don’t sweat it, the military sometimes does this to non-military personnel. They record sense memory. The captain is clean, because they legally can’t do this to him. Technically, they should have stayed more hands-off with you too, but they don’t seem to have had any compunctions about that. This will wipe you clean so you’re no longer accidentally spying for them. ‘Course, if you’re spying intentionally, I will acquaint your soft bits with my scalpels.”

            I raise my hands in surrender. “I’d rather not spy on people who are that handy with pointy things, so you don’t need to worry about that.”

            “Oh look,” she says interestedly, as the prickles subside. “I think your heart rate increased because of stress, so it took less than a minute.”

            “Uh, great.”

            “Okay, I’m going to put you to sleep briefly. When you wake up, you’ll be new and improved.”

            She pushes my shoulder until I lie back down. On the other arm, she swabs again and injects the drug. “Count back from ten.”

            I don’t feel anything. “Ten…nine…eight…seven-”

            I open my eyes, and my vision is grainy.

            “Blink twice,” an authoritative voice from behind my head. I blink and the film on my eyes disappears.

            “Okay, looks good, pupil is still responding to light. Sorry about the dry eye; It’s an occasional side effect,” Anne says. I turn to find her. She’s sitting on a tall stool behind me, making notes on the med file projected in front of her.

            “What did you put in my eye?”

            “It’s a nifty thing that Mei designed.” Anne walks around and slides her stool over in front of me as I sit up slowly. “We all have one in our left eye. When we activate it, it will highlight a path for you to walk, and marks that show you where to put your hands and so on.”

            “Why? What is the actual plan here?”

            “We will drive the captain crazy. He’ll be stuck in what appears to be an ever-looping day.”

            “You kill your captains by driving them to despair.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement, as the genius of this crew is truly revealed.

            “We’re not murderers,” Anne says defensively. “We never lay a hand on them.”

            “No, I understand. Or I understand a part of it. Have all of the captains been this bad?”

            “Some better, some worse, some were just plain fools, fobbed off on a damaged crew. Here, let’s go sit in the observatory.” We go out and settle next to each other on the seats that line the observatory. The lighting in here is minimal, the glass is perfectly clear, and the stars are beautiful.

            I turn to her and ask, “Why start this plan? It seems too risky. Wouldn’t it be easier with a fool for a captain?”

            “It would be, if we knew where to look.”

            “Look?” Now I’m lost.

            “Presumably, you’ve heard of Captain Tannen.” I nod and she continues. “He was sentenced to-”

            “The Marren Mines,” I interrupt. “I know, I was there at the trial, I heard the sentence.”

            “We all did. Problem is, the sentence was as fake as the charges.”

            “What do you mean?”

            “Well first of all, the chick was not a known anarchist. Second…well, she was a chick. Dem and Xander were so in love, there is no way Dem was ‘consorting’ with her.”

            “Uh, that doesn’t answer my question, though it certainly raises a few new ones. I meant why do you say the sentence was fake?”

            “He’s not at the mines. Not a record of his whereabouts since the trial, at least, not one we can access. The government doesn’t misplace prisoners. Ergo, they’ve hidden him, or killed him. So we’re gonna find him, dead or alive, no matter what it takes. We leave no one behind.”

            “Who’s idea was this whole scheme?”

            “Xander’s. Didn’t take much to convince the rest of us to jump on board with it.” Now she drops her chin to her chest and looks at her hands in her lap. She always looks self-assured in the med bay, so there’s something fragile about how vulnerable she looks against the dark backdrop of endless space.

            As gently as I can, I ask, “What’s wrong?” There’s something that isn’t sitting right in her head.

            She sighs and looks up at me like a hunted animal. “Some of these…I’ve enjoyed them. I’m going to enjoy this one. Does that make me a monster?”

            “You’re not a monster.” I reach out and grab her hands. “You are not a monster,” I insist, knowing I’m going to enjoy this all too much as well. I stand and pull her to me. She tucks her face into my shoulder and wraps her arms around me. I hold her, taking in her warmth and the peace of our synchronized breathing.

            She pulls back and looks into my eyes. “What about you? Why are you joining us?”

            “It’s…it’s complicated. No, it’s not, that’s a lie. It’s difficult to,” I gesture vaguely. How do I explain the day my life fell apart?

            “Tell me?” It’s something in the way she asks, without demands.

            I acquiesce. “My home planet was one of the border planets, so I grew up on a small farm. I had an older brother and a younger sister and my parents. It was…idyllic. But, um when I was seventeen, the government wanted to use our planet as a base to ‘oversee’ some of the surrounding planets. You know how it is, border planets are a good hiding place for smugglers and their lot. When our leaders refused to harbor soldiers and feed them.” I shake my head and clench my jaw, unable to acknowledge the sharp ache in my heart and the tears that well up.

            She makes soothing noises and runs her hand through my hair. “It’s okay, you don’t have to say this. It’s okay. Shhhhh.”

            “No,” I say and with a deep breath, I continue. “The Crown sent its soldiers in. Sent them to take care of ‘disobedience’. Disobedience to a power we hadn’t even pledged our allegiance to. My village was razed to the ground by General Andreas’ men. Th-they raped and killed the women under his orders.” She looks horrified, but I press on, relishing the catharsis. “My da and brother got killed trying to protect my ma and my sister. The rest of us, they rounded up and sold to a bunch of muck-ridden slavers. I was sold to a man who owned a large estate; he wanted another groundsman. When he died, I escaped, took sanctuary in the monastery. The Abbot said that Death had spoken to him. Apparently, Death saw something in me that would be useful in His service. So I did His bidding and waited for an opportunity. When Andreas was stupid enough to look for a priest, I did what I had to do to make sure I’d be the one to take him down.”

            I realize I’ve unloaded my terrible nightmares onto her, and pull away. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”

            She cuts me off with a sad and caring smile. “Shut up and come here.” She kneels on the ground and reaches under the bench, pulling out two sleeping rolls and some blankets. “I sleep up here some nights, so I keep stuff stored here so I don’t have to go all the way down to the bunks.” She hesitates, but offers, “If you don’t want to sleep alone tonight, you can stay here.” I nod, surprised by how warmed I am by her offer. She tosses one roll to me and we arrange them next to each other on the ground. We lie down and divvy up the blankets. There, under the careless gaze of faraway stars, we fall asleep, fingers loosely interlaced.


	7. Chapter 7

_June 5 2973_

Andreas Maldred

                        I wake at 0600 Crown Standard Time. It’s ingrained, even if I’m not part of the land troops anymore. Out here in the black, time is far less relevant. I’ve been on the Stella Alatum for over a week, but it feels absolutely endless. This crew needs a firm hand. At least the pilot is a silent man. I’d go mad if I had to spend all day with that idiot female who pretends to be a doctor. Xander, for his part, takes orders properly. In my cabin, I go through my morning exercises, working up an honest sweat. I shower, change into clean clothes and then go into the ship’s kitchen to get food. I’m already thoroughly sick of protein bars. I miss food that looks, tastes and feels edible. I munch on it as I head to the cockpit.

            “Morning Captain, sleep well?” I startle, having seen no one in the kitchen. The voice from behind me is that of the engineer. She looks far more cheerful than I have ever seen her before.

            “I slept reasonably well, yes.” I wait a minute, then continue on my path when it’s evident that the conversation doesn’t need to be continued. That’s certainly something new, compared to my normal morning routine.

I spend some time in the cockpit, but I’m not really needed. I go back to my bunk and start working out the exchange rate for the border planets we’re headed towards. We have supplies, and I need to do research into the going rate as well as make sure that we have the calculate rate in all relevant currencies.

            When I have it all recorded in neat columns on my holocomputer, I go back up to the kitchen and grab a carbo bar. I walk over to the sitting area. Out in the middle of the cargo bay, Xander and Nathan are practicing with their standard issue guns. Or, at least, Nathan’s is standard issue. Xander’s gun leaves smoking marks and makes a whooshing and buzzing noise, which is highly irregular. Laser guns were long ago changed to be silent and leave no traces. They both have decent aim, and it’s nice and quiet out here. I recline on the garishly orange couch. I prop my boots up on the small dinged up coffee table and let my eyes shut. It’s not a nap, just resting my eyes after settling all currency business.

            I wake to Xander and Nathan clomping up the stairs. I sit up straight, because they need to respect me. Sleeping on the job is plain unprofessional. They barely nod as they go past. This position has been a challenge from the very beginning. I accepted it, because I know I can corral this slippery, rebellious crew. At the very least, I won’t let them murder me in my sleep. If I can make this crew what it used to be, then I’ll finally get the recognition I deserve. I have undertaken every thankless task in the ‘verse and I still haven’t achieved what I want. If this works out though, the payoff is great. Council Elder Mendax insinuated that I might even make the Council in a few years’ time. 

            Xander comes back out, and sits on the other end of the couch.

            “What’s up, Captain?”

            “Not much,” I reply. It’s curious. Two unsolicited conversations today?

            “We should reach the Border in about three weeks, you know.”

            “I did the accounts this morning, worked out the math. We should make a good profit on this shipment.”

            “That’ll be nice. Maybe we can pick up some real food out on the Border. Lot of little farming towns, so maybe this time of year, there’ll be a bit of surplus crop.”

            “I did a detail out on the Border. There were a few too many madmen with their own ships for my liking.”

            “Supposedly, the Crown’s cut down on a lot of that. Not to mention, we’re armed well, and we don’t bear the Crowns heraldic mark, they won’t target us specifically.” He nods brusquely and goes off to do whatever he occupies himself with on a daily basis.

            I decide to spend some time in my bunk, writing up my report. I’ve kept a near-daily record of the going-ons of the ship, trying to see where I can improve their performance. I haven’t really studied the engineer yet, mostly because I don’t know enough about efficiency when working with a class B Manta engine. Today is as good a day as any to rectify that. I pull up diagrams and research papers on the engine and maximum efficiency in maintenance.

            When my eyes are about to blur completely, I abandon the diagrams in favor of dinner. I don’t have everything memorized, but I have a basic understanding. I eat dinner in my cabin, watching some flick with excessive explosions on the holoscreen. It’s a habit I’ve picked up here on the Stella Alatum, simply because the whole ship has a hostile aura.

            I cycle through a few more flicks, sitting amidst food wrapper on my bed, but I can’t concentrate on any of them. I figure I might as well turn in, so I toss the wrappers into the incinerator shaft and tuck myself under the duvet. The room turns the lights off and I sleep as soon as the light is gone.

 

_June 6 2973_

Andreas Maldred

                        I wake at 0600 CST and go through my morning exercises. I shower, change into clean clothes and then go into the ship’s kitchen to breakfast. I grab a bar and peel the wrapper halfway down, grimacing at the sticky, earthy, crumbliness of the meal. I go to the cockpit to relieve the pilot briefly, but am stopped.

            “Morning Captain, sleep well?” The engineer asks cheerily.

            “Yeah, it wasn’t bad.” Even if it’s bizarre, she’s being welcoming, so I count that as a small victory. It’s better than the sullen glares I’ve received for a week.

            The pilot indicates that he doesn’t need me. I go back to my bunk, where I am aghast to find no trace of my careful calculations of yesterday. No matter where I look, I can’t find any part of it, nor any indications that someone has been in my system. I have to do the work all again. I deliberately save it, wondering if the system crashed or something while I was sleeping. I check my history, and none of the diagrams or research I did yesterday is marked in my history. The device claims that there was no June 5th. Or rather, it says today is June 5th. The holoscreen doesn’t show any of the flicks I browsed yesterday. The link into the ship’s computer affirms that today is the 5th.

            I go up to the kitchen and grab a bar, because I am confused as hell, and don’t know what else to do. I walk over to the sitting area. Just like yesterday, in the middle of the cargo bay, Xander and Nathan are practicing with their guns. Xander’s gun whooshes and buzzes the same way it did yesterday. I sit on the couch, trying to piece it all together. It’s déjà vu and it’s a damn nightmare.

            Xander and Nathan trot up the stairs and they bob their heads as they go past.

            Xander comes back out, and sits on the other end of the couch.

            “What’s up, Captain?”

            “I might be going mad,” I reply, unintentionally honest.

            He looks mildly concerned, his brow crinkling, but says, “We should reach the Border in about three weeks, you know.”

            “I did the accounts this morning, worked out the math. Again. Just like I did yesterday.”

            “Did they work out right? Maybe we can pick up some real food out on the Border. Lot of little farming towns, so maybe this time of year, there’ll be a bit of surplus crop.”

            “I’m crazy. Have you lived this day before? I’ve lived this day before.”

            “No, this is the first. But hey, don’t look so down. Supposedly, the Crown’s cut down on a lot of the bandits. Not to mention, we’re armed well, and we don’t bear the Crowns heraldic mark, they won’t target us specifically.” He nods and leaves.

            I go back to my bunk. Nothing makes sense. They’re unaware of yesterday. I sit there with my head in my hands, nearly ready to pull my hair out with my hands. There’s no rational response for this. There’s no evidence that yesterday existed. It wasn’t a dream. I’m not a psychic; I have no sixth sense and I don’t get premonitions. That sort of thing manifests in childhood. I go up to the kitchen, where Nathan is sitting.

             “Erm, Father Harris,” I choose to err on the side of politeness, “I was wondering, have you, by any chance, been having premonitions?”

            He looks a bit confused. “No, sir. Should I have?”

“I just…never mind.” There’s no real way to explain this without sounding crazy. I do an about-face turn and go back into my bunk. Maybe it was just a dream. That would make sense. That’s the only way.

I settle down to sleep, uneasy as hell on this witch-spawned ship.


	8. Chapter 8

_June 37 2973_

Xander Mast

Everything has been going fairly smoothly. Maldred is smarter than some of the people who’ve stood at the helm of this ship. He’s tried checking the star positions, and measuring the engine fuel, and hiding things to check if they’re there in the morning. Unfortunately for him, we’ve done this enough times, so nothing’s come of his efforts. Mei set up her spyders, and she uses them to rearrange his room so that it’s the same way every morning. The spyders just slide out of the vents on their synthetic cord, do their work and then disappear back into the vents. All ship systems are fixed, so he won’t be able to see any changes when he looks at them. Aldris has the ship in holding position and we’ve got enough fuel to last months.

Maldred’s been wandering around the ship, twitchy and sleep-deprived. He looks like an oft-folded paper, creased and worn. His red-rimmed eyes flick back and forth, watching us all.

Nathan has actually adapted well and maintained his composure. Purportedly, he has a good reason to want Maldred dead. Frankly, I imagine, anyone who’s met the man has a good reason. He and Anne have declined to share this reason with the class, but in the end it doesn’t matter so much.

Today, I haven’t seen Maldred at all. I’m supposed to stay here in the cargo bay for another half hour or so. I’ve been nailing this practice target, and wondering if a laser gun could be adapted to cook meat.

“Hey,” someone croaks. Like I summoned him with a thought, he’s there, half draped over the railing upstairs.

“Can I help you, sir?”

“You,” he says and meanders unsteadily down the stairs, leaning heavily on the rails. “You.” He seems unable to complete his train of thought.

“Yes, sir?”

As he reaches the bottom of the stairs, I go over to make sure he doesn’t fall on his face. It’d be hard to explain the bruises away tomorrow.

“Hey, Xander,” Nathan calls from the top of the stairs, and suddenly I’m being whirled and slammed against the wall by Maldred.

He presses something hard between my shoulderblades, growling, “Hands up. Don’t move.”

I’m inclined to obey.

“What’s going on?” Damn it all, that’s Anne. I think at her, _‘Go! Go away!’_ because she can’t be here. I keep quiet, just so I don’t spook Maldred. Someone’s gonna get hurt, and every variable that gets added increases the chances that one of us isn’t gonna walk out. I hope that Nathan’s got the sense to keep her away, keep her safe.

“Captain, what’s going on?” Nathan sounds calm, but there’s an undercurrent of palpable tension.

“I intend to get some damn answers,” Maldred barks. Where I am, I can’t do anything. I can’t see anything but the steel grey wall pressed into my face. I hear steps move down the stairs before Maldred grinds the muzzle of the handgun into my upper ribs, right next to my right shoulderblade, and I refuse to wince. “Another step and he gets a bullet in his lung.”

“Okay,” Nathan says, placating. “Xander, you have an antique handgun at your back, so please don’t move. I sent Anne into the kitchen.”

“Where she belongs.” Much as Maldred seems amused by Anne leaving, I am grateful to Nathan. He assuaged my fear about Anne and reoriented me. I know where he is now, and I know what precisely I’m up against.           

Maldred recaptures our attention by shouting, “What the fuck is going on? What did you do?”

“Captain,” I say, but can’t continue when he grabs my shirt and slams me into the wall again. I grunt in pain as he continues to drill the muzzle into the bone.

“Shut up. Like I can’t see the lies. All of you, LIARS!”

I can only pray that Mei’s close. Anne would definitely have alerted Aldris, who would have located Mei. In my head, I’m apologizing for the things I regret, because it doesn’t hurt to rack up some credit before I pass into the afterlife. There is nothing I can do but hope that someone is willing to play the knight in shining armor to my damsel in distress. Our captain has gone mad and we didn’t prepare for this eventuality. It’s my fault.

I tune back into Nathan saying, “I don’t know what you think has happened, but we can all just calm down and talk—”

“No! We can’t talk. I’m not crazy, you know! I know you are doing something. Did you side with them too? Did you?”

“Did I side with whom?”

“Them! This thrice cursed crew!”

I can tell that Nathan’s just keeping Maldred talking. It’s a good strategy, but I’m worried it’ll just work him further into his frenzy. I don’t like enemies I can’t see. This is a nightmare.

“Put the gun down or I slit your throat,” Mei hisses from somewhere behind me.

“You can’t shut me—” Maldred begins, but ends with a squeak. The pressure on my back eases and I move back from the wall a bit. “Okay, okay.”

“Anne?” Nathan’s displeasure is evident. I look up to see Anne leaning over the rail, trying to assess the situation.

            Like clockwork, Maldred takes advantage of our distraction. There’s a thump behind me and then a loud crack. I feel warmth spreading in my chest, and turn to see the smoking gun.

            “NO!” Anne’s scream pierces my ears. Right before my eyes, as I lean against the wall for support, a spear of ice plunges through Maldred’s shoulder and into his chest cavity. He falls backwards, coughing up red and then goes still. I slide down the wall, as my vision clouds. I feel, simultaneously, like I’m burning and freezing.

            There’s a keening sound that I can’t pinpoint. _Oh, maybe that’s me._

            Mei and Nathan are hovering over me, and I try to say something, but nothing is working.

            I black out momentarily, and when I come to, I see white lights above me. _Is this the afterlife?_ Then I see Anne with her surgical mask. Everything fades to white.


	9. Chapter 9

            _June 38 2973_

Xander Mast

            I open my eyes blearily, blink and take a few experimental, shallow breaths. My back hurts a little, and so does my ribcage. My mouth tastes like I’ve been licking cotton balls. I’m in the med bay, and it’s quiet. I try to prop myself up on my elbows, but there are bandages around my torso that prevent excessive movement. I feel vaguely sleepy and floaty.

            The doors slide open and Anne stomps in. “He’s not going to die!” She slams the doors shut, nearly smashing Nathan’s nose and curses, “Vautour maudit.”

            _Damned vulture?_ I translate in my head. I try to laugh, but all I get is a wheeze.

            Anne’s at my side in a flash. “Xander! Thank god. How’re you feeling?”

            “Peachy, princess. You shudn’ yell at your boyfrien’. He likes you. Didja tell ‘im what y’are?”

            “Do you remember what happened?” She ignores my mention of Nathan.

            “Dosen even mattur,” I slur slightly. I’m beginning to think I’ve been liberally dosed with pain meds. My thoughts are relatively clear, but my mouth isn’t working perfectly. “Don’ be mad. Nobody’s fault. I’s’okay ta kiss him.”

            “Dammit Xan, you almost died. I had to perform surgical techniques that aren’t even taught anymore. There was a bullet ricocheting in you, fracturing seven ribs! You’re on the barely-safe limit of pain medication. I could have lost you. Do you understand? I could have lost you!”

            “C’mere.” I reach out my left arm and guide her until she’s leaning over me in a half-hug. “S’okay. I promise.”

            She shakes with little choked sobs. “You idiot, Xan.”

            I rub her back as best as I can. I know I scared her badly and I’m sorry for that. I’m not sorry I took the bullet. Better me than anyone else.

            “Now go. I bet he’s waitin’ for ya. Righ’ there.” I point at the door. “Y’know ‘s not his fault. Jus’ mine. Go. Pleasss.” I’m not above playing the ‘I almost died’ card. As long as he takes care of her, I’m okay with him.

            She checks over the equipment and scrutinizes my face. She gives me a quick kiss on the forehead and says, “You scared the crap out of me, asshole.”

            “Love you too,” I answer as she walks out of the med bay, closing the doors gently. I’m tired, and I let my eyes slide shut.

            Later, Aldris and Mei take turns checking in on me. They’re both quietly thankful that Anne knew what to do. I mean, who even gets shot with a bullet? This isn’t 2000.

            Nathan and Anne visit me, not too subtly linking their pinkies. I send Anne to get me some food, so I can talk to Nathan.

            “Did she tell you what she is?”

            “Yeah, otherwise it would be hard to explain the ice throwing thing. She’s seriously one of the Ice People? Like...alien with badass powers?”

            “Yep. We grew up in the winter holds of Sanctum. My da found her when she was little. They’d left her behind for some reason, so we took her in. You gonna leave her if you see how she really looks? Or if you walk in on her playing with ice?”

            “She showed me how she looks.” He sounds reverential. “She’s beautiful, gifted, amazing. It’s not what I expected, after all the warnings she gave me.”

            “You hurt her,” I say conversationally, “and I’ll string you up bloody.”

            “I’ve seen Death, so that’s less frightening than I think you intended. But it doesn’t matter. Even when she’s swearing at me in archaic languages, I want to be with her.”

            I snicker slightly, though it pulls on my ribs. “If she’s swearing, that’s actually a good sign. It’s her method of indicating affection.”

            Nathan smiles, slightly insincerely. He looks distracted.

            I narrow my eyes and ask, “What’s up?”

            “I was thinking. When you were standing there with a gun jammed in your back, I was thinking, you’re not the captain.”

            “No,” I say agreeably, “I’m not.”

            “But you should be.”

            “What?”

            “You should be. You take care of this crew like they’re your crew. I’m not saying forever. But you’re not gonna get anywhere while the Crown is still breathing over your shoulder. Go renegade and keep your crew flying. Find Demetrius. I’ve talked to everyone and they agree with me.” He’s leaning forward, passionate about convincing me.

            “And what’ll you do?”

            “If’n you let me, I’ll stay with you. I’m not of a mind to leave Anne. If it comes to it, you can drop me off somewhere and go on your way.”

            “I think, that given our line of work, we could use someone who can fight, has a code of honor, and owns a brilliant disguise for sneaking around.”

             He nods, a smile slowly growing. He’s right. I wouldn’t have volunteered to be captain, but the sooner we find Dem, the better. I know he’s out there.

            “Welcome aboard the Stella Alatum,” I say, shaking his hand. “There are three rules. One, this crew is your family, treat them better than you’d treat your family. Two, betray the crew or threaten this ship, you get jettisoned from the airlock. Three, leave no one behind.”

He nods, pleased, and leaves.

I can see Dem smiling. We’ll find him, no matter the cost. We’re still flying, and that’s all we need.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know if anyone actually reads end notes. *shrug* lemme know what you think of the story.


End file.
